Hey, Sats Spanks,

Here’s a scene from Rocky Mountain Ride, which I just turned in to the publisher. 😀 Lord James Sebastian Chivington the third introduces Francesca to the birch…

***

“This, my lady, is a birch. As a boy, I knew it well, though I must say a bundle of hazel rods made for a much nastier experience than these fine twigs. Of course, it’s meant to chastise but not permanently mar your flesh.”

He stepped behind her and drew up her heavy black skirts, flipping up each layer until he found her drawers and peeled those down. Francesca’s face burned and she wriggled in her bonds at the humiliating circumstances.

The loathsome man let out a low whistle. “And what lovely, lovely flesh it is.”

*

Sebastian could hardly believe his eyes. He could tell by her face his mystery lady was young and fresh, but he’d never seen such a perfect pair of buttocks. Smooth and framed by the black skirts and stockings north to south, and bright white seamless drawers east to west, were a pair of two caramel lobes, by far the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.
He’d prided himself on being all business up until that point, picking the twigs and stripping them of leaves, making sure they were smooth so they would stripe, but not cut her skin. But he couldn’t keep from brushing a reverent hand over her quivering flesh, admiring the delicious plumpness, ripe and ready for a man’s worshiping tongue or a pillowy welcome for a nice hard prick pounding into her back entrance.

Steady, Sebastian. Patience, temperance and self control was key. Too bad he didn’t know the lady well enough to reward her with a thorough tongue lashing once she’d suffered through a round with the rod. He always found a woman’s quim to be even more accepting when warmed with a spot of discipline.

Her bottom was going to be more than a little hot once he was done.

“As I said before, I was birched as a boy,” Sebastian went on talking as if he’d met the lady for casual conversation over tea, not in the middle of the Colorado wilderness about to lay a bundle of pain onto a lovely lady’s ass. “Hurts like the dickens but gets the point across. Or points, in this case. In this session, you’ll be learning how to behave. For the rest of the time we are acquainted there is to be no running, no scratching, no biting, and no kicking. Or shooting, for that matter. If you don’t learn after one session, I’ll be sure to pack this birch and keep it on hand for another.

It’s hard work on my part, I know,” he waxed on sarcastically. “But, ‘spare the rod and spoil the quim’ is what I always say.”

*

Every muscle in her body tensed as Francesca waited for the first lash to fall. Grinding her teeth into the gag, she tried to communicate with her eyes: If you’re going to punish me, get on with it.

The blonde seemed to understand, for he nodded once and stepped behind her again, and laid the birch across her buttocks.

Her breath left in a rush, and despite her vow not to cry, tears sprang into her eyes. The bundle of twigs felt like a thousand tiny whips, covering most of her poor exposed rear. Her bottom cheeks clenched and unclenched as if they could drive away the pain.

“That’s one,” her blond captor said. She registered his lazy drawl even as her thoughts were still swimming through the pain. Bastard. He was enjoying this.

***